Mabel's Life
by ToothPasteCanyon
Summary: Dipper makes a mistake. Mabel makes the best of it.
1. Chapter 1

Cool air rustled through the trees of a cemetery, a chilly breeze brought in from the ocean nearby. With it came clouds, solid and hanging low across the horizon like a damp carpet. Everything seemed duller, colours more muted, air more heavy. A couple mourners stood in black to the side, in silence.

Then down the small, rocky road, came a car. It was small and grey and slowly, carefully pulled up to the grass. The engine shut off, and for a long moment, nobody got out.

Eventually, the handle twisted and a tall man in a light raincoat helped himself out. He stood there another moment, looking down at a note in his hand, and then up to the archway above the cemetery.

"This is the place," Dipper said, slowly stuffing the note into his pocket. "Grunkle Stan, I hope you're wrong about this."

He walked into the cemetery, and with no small amount of hesitation, began to inspect the first row of graves. They were all noticeably new, with clean-cut tombstones, laid flowers and recent dates of death. Dipper couldn't help but ache for the loss of life as he read them.

 **Here lies Ann Smith**

 **Loving mother, dedicated teacher**

 **(1965-2017)**

He kept searching, although his thoughts swam with worry. They'd been looking for weeks; what if this was just another false lead? Grunkle Stan seemed certain that this was the place, but what if he was wrong?

And what if he was right?

"Excuse me?" A light touch on Dipper's shoulder made him turn to see a woman in mourning black, smiling at him in mild concern. "I don't mean to pry, but you seem a little lost."

Dipper nodded. "Yeah." Then he blinked. "I mean, no! Not lost, I-I know where I am. I'm just looking for somebody."

"Do you need help with that?" Her smile turned sad. "I've been, well, I'm pretty familiar with this place by now. If you gave me a name, I could point you in the right direction."

"No, thank you. That's really nice, but I can do this." He turned away and kept searching.

Time passed. Rain began to fall in a light drizzle, misting his hair and his coat. People left, but he stayed.

"Oh..."

And eventually...

"Oh, no..."

He found what he was looking for.

"Oh, no, no, no." Dipper sank to his knees. "How could I let this happen to you?"

Because there, on a plain gravestone, was inscribed:

 **Here lies Mabel Pines**

 **Beloved friend**

 **(1941-1999)**


	2. Chapter 2

"Grunkle Stan, you have some explaining to do!" Dipper hadn't even gotten into the house before he unleashed on a very surprised Soos, Ford and Stan. "Please explain why there's a gravestone of my sister in some remote town near Piedmont, dated to before we were born. Actually, my bigger question is, how did you know it was there?"

Stan raised his hands in a pacifying gesture. "I know, I know, I'll tell ya everything. Come inside, it's a long story."

Dipper scowled, slammed his car door and marched for the gift shop door. Ford clasped a hand on his shoulder as he passed.

"Dipper, try not to be too angry at my brother." Ford spoke in a gentle, but firm tone. "He wanted to make absolutely sure there were no other leads before telling you about this one. It's speculation at best."

He took a deep breath. "Okay. I'm sorry, I've just been thinking about the-the grave all the way here. What happened?"

"Stanley will tell you." Ford opened the door. "Come in."

The four walked through the gift shop into the living room. Discarded banners saying, 'HAPPY 19TH BIRTHDAY, DIPPER AND MABEL!' lay crumpled in a pile, along with dismantled parts of... the machine, the one Dipper had turned on and made his sister disappear in a flash of light. He felt a pang of guilt at the memory.

"Hey, dudes," Soos called from the kitchen as Stan pulled up a chair. "Anyone want some water? I could try coffee, but, heh, that's still a work in progress."

"No thanks, Soos. A-actually, I'll take a glass of water." Dipper sat down across from his great uncles, one sitting in his armchair and the other leaning an arm on the back. "So, uh, Stan. How did you know about the, you know..."

"The grave?" Stan had a box sitting on his leg, and he opened it. "I knew she was there because I buried her, kid."

"You what?"

"She was an old friend. Met her back in the seventies; for reasons I can't understand until now, she took a real shine to me and helped me through some tough times." He took out a photo and handed it to Dipper. "She didn't have any family, so it fell to me to take care of the costs when she died."

Dipper stared at the photo. It depicted two people with their arms around each other – one man and one woman. The man was obviously a younger version of Grunkle Stan, with a scruffy brown mullet and a tired smile. The woman was... well, the first thing that drew one's eye was the bright red sweater with 'Mabel's Craft Shop' written in green on the front. Then you noticed the neon pink leg warmers, and then her face. Framed by a wild mane of grey hair was a smile that stretched from ear to ear, and sparkling eyes with crow's feet.

"Mabel..." Dipper touched his hand to the photograph.

"I thought she was nuts at first." Stan let out a short laugh. "She just wouldn't leave me alone! Only now I'm thinking it was because she hadn't seen her family in a good few years and was desperate to reconnect...wow."

In the ensuing silence, Soos burst into the living room. "I've got your water, dude! Uh... was that a bad moment? It was totally a bad moment, I'm sorry."

Dipper took the water. "No, no, it's fine. Thanks, Soos. I needed this."

"Anything for you, Mr Pines?"

"I'm good, Soos." Stan took the picture back and stared at it, eyes lost in memories. "I'll never forget the day I met her..."

* * *

Stan's car window was broken. To some people, this was a hassle. It was something to grumble about, fork over cash for and then forget about as soon as it got fixed. For Stan, this was something a little more than that; he lived out of his car, and it was January in California. Sure, it wasn't the chilliest state, but people had houses for a reason.

Three cold nights passed, spent shivering in threadbare blankets, before Stan had had enough. Maybe he didn't have enough money to get it replaced, but he was sure a little duct tape would help keep the wind out.

And so he found himself in 'Mabel's Craft Shop', a little store he spotted on his way to a larger city. Standing amongst knitting yarn in an off-white shirt, dishevelled hair and bloodshot eyes, he couldn't help but feel a little out of place.

"Just the duct tape?" The cashier asked as she rung him up.

"Yeah." He fumbled in his pockets. "S'cuse me one second, gotta find some damn change..."

Stan eventually came up with the amount, and slid it onto the table. Strangely, the cashier didn't immediately take it. He looked up to find the woman staring at him with a most peculiar expression.

"Uh... lady?"

"Sorry!" She shook herself, but still didn't take the money. "You, um, you just look very familiar. What's your name?"

Stan's face set into a frown; from past experience, it wasn't a good thing when people recognised him. "None of your business, lady."

"Oh." She was still staring at him – quite intently. She had a vertical scar on her cheek, he noticed.

"So, are you gonna ring me up or what?"

"I'm Mabel! Mabel Pines!" The woman suddenly burst out, and pushed his coins away. "The duct tape's on me. Do you want to go grab a drink? I know a good restaurant. Let's grab a drink!"

"Whoa!" Stan took a step back; this Mabel looked like she was about to climb over the counter. "I'm not- what are you talking about?"

"Let's talk! I want to talk to you. I want to talk about your face, and your suit – you don't have a suit - and your hair, oh my gosh!" She reached a hand over and stroked his head while Stan looked on in stunned surprise. "You really do have a mullet!"

For once in his life, Stan was genuinely lost for words. Eventually he stammered out, "Th-thanks?"

"No problem." She hung up her apron, cupped her hands to her mouth, and yelled, "Hey, everyone! Store's closing, get your butts out the door!"

"What are you doing?"

"Taking you out for lunch. Come on!"

"Whoa, hold your horses. Why would I go to lunch with you?"

Mabel stopped, then, and her smile faded. After a moment, a smaller, quieter grin graced her lips. "Because I'm paying?"

Stan considered it. Would he have lunch with arguably the craziest woman he'd ever encountered, or would he just walk out and forget this ever happened? His stomach rumbled, and he sighed.

She seemed harmless enough, at least.

"Okay, fine." He stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Where are you taking me, Fable?"

She opened the door for him. "It's Mabel, silly. Mabel Pines."

Pines? Stan did a double take at that. She didn't look like anyone from his family – it was a coincidence, had to be a coincidence.

They crossed the street into a little family restaurant; nothing fancy, but still nice and clean. Mabel and the waiter greeted each other warmly, and they were sat near a window.

"Alright, catch ya later, Michael!" Mabel laughed, turning to Stan. "That's Michael. I come here pretty often, so he knows me."

"Okay?" Stan raised an eyebrow, still not entirely sure what the point of this was. He gave her a once over, looking for something to break the awkward silence. "Uh... those things on your legs are weird. Let's talk about that."

Mabel laughed. "Oh, these? They're leg warmers. These things are gonna be all the rage soon."

"Riiight."

"Not that I actually know! Just a guess."

Stan rolled his eyes. "Lady, if you've brought me here to predict fashion trends, you've got the wrong guy."

"Call me Mabel, Stan." Mabel grinned at him. "And I didn't bring you here for that, I just wanted to talk. How's life going?"

"Well, if you're so interested, I'm living out of my car." He grumbled. "Some angry customer broke my window, so now it's cold. There, are you happy?"

Mabel's eyes widened. "Oh, that's awful! You should get that fixed!"

"I can't. I barely have enough cash to pay for some damn duct tape to cover it." His shoulders slumped, and buried his face in his hands. "This is, this is where my life is at now."

"I could pay for it."

"What?" Stan's head shot up. "Why the heck would you do something like that? I'm a complete stranger."

A waiter came with the menus, and Mabel grinned. "We're not strangers. We're having lunch together, aren't we?"

"You are the strangest person I've ever met, and I've been to Vegas!" Stan shook his head, chuckling. "Fine, you got me. You want to pay for my car? I'm not gonna stop you."

"Darn right, you're not gonna stop me!" She folded out her menu. "Now pick something! I'm hungry."

As the meal went on, Stan found himself slowly warming to this strange woman. She had a quirky sense of humour, and an infectious smile that started tugging at his own lips before long. The whole meal, it was... nice. He hadn't felt so happy in a long time.

But everything came to an end eventually, and Stan couldn't help but think of the cold, cold car he was returning to as Mabel footed the bill.

"Here." Mabel held out a couple green notes as they stood outside the restaurant. "There's a hotel in town. This should keep you warm for a night."

Stan looked at her strangely. "What are you, rich? Do you take every down-on-his-luck guy out to lunch, or am I just that special?"

"You're just that special."

"Why? I've never even met you before today! What makes me the person that you'd drop everything for and take out to lunch?"

Mabel's smile turned sad. "Because you're all I've got."

"Don't you have some family, or friends? How 'bout that waiter?"

"Michael? He's alright." She paused. "I had a family. A long time ago."

"Oh, I'm real sorry to hear that." He scratched his head. "So, uh, I'll be seeing you tomorrow? About the car, you know."

Mabel looked up, sadness already being overtaken by a massive grin. "You're on. See you later-"

"Stetson Pinefield." Stan hesitated, and before he could stop himself added, "Stan Pines, actually. Scratch the first one."

Her eyes twinkled. "You got a fake ID?"

"I've got a few. What are you, a cop?"

"Just a concerned citizen." Mabel waved. "Seeya later, Stetson Fakerrooni!"

"Thanks for the meal, random craft shop lady!"

As Stan walked away towards the setting sun, he couldn't help but think things might start picking up from now on. They didn't, but that was beside the point.


	3. Chapter -5

_Three weeks earlier..._

* * *

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday Dipper and Mabel, happy birthday to you!" A great cheer went up as the twins blew out their candles.

"Aww, thank you guys!" Mabel grinned at all her friends and family, then turned to Stan. "And thank you for making the cake! This monster cake looks awesome!"

Stan crossed his arms. "Ehh, Ford did the icing. I just made the base."

"Just made the base?" Ford nudged his brother. "It takes skill to recreate that kracken we saw in the Atlantic so accurately! You even made the spear Dipper stabbed it with!"

"I call dibs on that!" Wendy shouted from the side.

Dipper grinned. "And you said there were only two talented people in the Pines family."

"Yeah, yeah. I guess it didn't turn out too badly. Now shut your yaps and let me cut it." It was small and easy to miss, but there was a definite smile on Grunkle Stan's face as he turned to the cake. "Who wants an arm? There's only eight, so if you want it, you'd better tell me quick. Dipper? Mabel?"

The party passed quickly, with much laughter and exchange of stories. A memorable one was Stan's retelling of the kraken; though he was hesitant to accept praise on the cake version, he was more than happy to embellish the part where he jumped on a tentacle, narrowly escaping death.

"And there I was, bein' tossed around by this great monster, when suddenly, I see an opportunity to-" Stan trailed off at the sound of an urgent beeping coming from the vending machine. "Ugh, that again. Dipper, go fiddle with it until it stops making that noise."

"On it!" Dipper made his way through the crowd, Mabel right behind him.

Wendy frowned. "What is that?"

"Something we found on our trip." Dipper rolled his eyes. "It does this all the time, don't worry."

Dipper and Mabel opened the vending machine and went down the steps, eventually coming to a machine propped up by the elevator. It was grey, about the size of a fridge, with an hourglass insignia on the upper front. The lower half was a panel of buttons that Dipper and Ford had removed, exposing the wiring.

Currently one of the buttons on the panel was flashing red, and the machine was emitting a blaring alarm. Mabel covered her ears as they approached.

"Ugh, stupid thing. Just gotta..." Dipper pressed the button, and it turned green. The noise stopped. "There we go. Let's get back to the-"

The alarm went off with another earsplitting screech. Dipper stabbed the button until it stopped again.

Mabel cautiously removed her hands from her ears. "Why does it keep doing that?"

"I wish I knew. This is getting really annoying." Dipper stroked his chin, and got down on his knees. "Maybe if I could locate the alarm system, I could disable it. Hang on..."

He pinched the wire connected to the back of the alarm button, and followed it up into the machine. His sister looked on anxiously.

"You see anything?"

"I think I see something." Dipper reached in his pocket, and drew out a multitool. "Let me just- there! That might work; I guess we'll see later, right?"

Silence.

"You heard that, Mabel?" Dipper turned around, and stopped. "Uh... not good. Not good!"

The hourglass imprint on the front of the machine was glowing purple, and that same colour enshrouded Mabel. She was trying to get away from the light, but it seemed to be keeping her in place. All the buttons on the panel turned red, casting an ominous light on the machine.

As Dipper watched, the buttons started turning green one by one... like a countdown. "Uh... Mabel, what do I do?"

She turned to face him, and even though her voice was muted she very clearly mouthed, ' _Get Ford_!'

Dipper nodded, backing away. "Good idea. Stay right there, Mabel- not that you can move, but... I-I'll be right back!"

He raced back up the stairs and threw open the vending machine. Stan and Ford took one look at his pale face and came running.

"How did this happen?" Ford's voice echoed as he stuck his head inside the machine. "Did you turn something on?"

"I cut something! A red wire!" Dipper pressed a hand to the light surrounding his sister. "I'm so sorry, Mabel! This is all my fault. Great Uncle Ford's gonna get you out of that, okay?"

Mabel smiled, and matched her hand to Dipper's.

"How's it going there, Poindexter?" Stan looked down at the panel. "I don't wanna know what happens when all those buttons turn green."

"I think I see what Dipper did. I'm going to try and reconnect it."

"Is that gonna work?"

"I hope so."

Five seconds felt like an age as the countdown reached the final row.

Then: "I've got it. Any changes?"

Dipper looked to his sister, panic rising in his chest. "No! It didn't do anything!"

"What do we do, Stanford?"

There was a rustle of wires from inside the machine. "I'll keep looking! There has to be a way."

"Three... two... one..." Stan blinked as the countdown reached zero. Nothing happened for a moment. "Huh. It didn't do-"

There was a bright flash of light that blinded Dipper and Stan. When they looked back, Mabel was gone.

 _Three thousand, nine hundred and ten weeks earlier..._

* * *

Mabel covered her face when the bright flash came. She felt a rush of freezing cold, searing heat, perceived herself pitching forwards, spinning, spinning-

And she fell to the ground with an oomph. Mabel looked up, squinting as her eyes adjusted to a bright, burning sun. She picked herself up, brushing off her clothes only to find them ruined, riddled with smoking holes. Her phone slipped out of a tear in her pocket, busted and sparking.

"Oh, crap. What was that?" She looked around, and found herself on the wooden roof of an unfamiliar building. In fact, none of the buildings in the small wooded town she had landed in looked like anything she had seen before. "Where am I?"

Using her sweater to shimmy down a pipe (it was ruined, anyway), she reached an alleyway and stepped out onto the main road. People gave her funny looks as she passed. Mabel paid them no mind; she didn't know what they were being all judgy for with the weird stuff they were wearing.

In fact, everything looked weird. Had that machine sent her into an alternate universe? Mabel came to a dead stop at that thought; she meant it as a joke, but it was actually a very real possibility. If it had, what was she going to do? How was she going to get back to her family? Would she just be stuck here for the rest of her life, with all these strange people, all these strange buildings-

 _Beeeep_! Mabel, realising she was in the middle of the street, jumped out of the way of a very strange looking car. It was a big vehicle, painted off-white with a black roof. The wheels stuck out, and were covered by a rounded plate big enough to stand on.

Actually, those cars did look a bit familiar. It was like she'd seen them somewhere before... like a history book.

Mabel paled. "I need to find a newspaper."

After a fair amount of searching, Mabel managed to get her hands on a newspaper. Even before she looked at the date, the large black-and-white print ordering her to 'BUY WAR BONDS!' was less than encouraging.

"1942." She took a deep breath. "Oh, boy. I'm in 1942."

That would have been the average person's cue to freak out, scream, faint, or display some other symptom of extreme panic. Mabel was panicking, but she kept her lid for the moment being in favour of finding some shelter for the night. Her clothes were ruined, she didn't have any money – not that she thought modern currency would be of much use in _1942_. 1942! – and the sun was beginning to set. Great.

At first Mabel decided to ask around for a place to stay. Nobody seemed particularly willing to help; one said they were the owner of a local hotel, but balked at the mention of no money. Eventually she spotted a scowling man with a badge making his way towards her, and she high-tailed it into the woods. She knew how to make a fire and shelter, so she'd be fine that night.

The problem was the next night, and the night after that, and every night after that until she got rescued. Ford spent thirty years trapped in an alternate dimension; who knows how long she could be trapped in the past?

Mabel was tired as she lay down in her makeshift shelter. She was cold. She already missed her family; Soos, Wendy, Grunkle Ford, Grunkle Stan, Dipper.

"Dipper..." Her eyes welled with tears, and she buried her face in her arms. "What am I gonna do?"

On the night of her 19th birthday, Mabel cried herself to sleep.


End file.
